


Isn't That Lovely?

by cerezsis



Series: Steven Universe Human AU [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Borderline Personality Disorder, Canonical Character Death, Death of Loved Ones, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Human AU, Isolation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 20:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21185741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerezsis/pseuds/cerezsis
Summary: Spinel thinks she and Piper Damon are best friends. Piper hangs out with her because she has to. The two are separated when Piper’s dream of owning her own branch of the family business comes true, but Spinel is sure their friendship can survive the distance. Unfortunately, their friendship isn’t the only thing she’ll watch go up in flames.





	Isn't That Lovely?

“Say hello to your new friend, Piper,” the white-haired woman said, her hands planted firmly on her daughter’s shoulders.

The ten-year-old looked her new “friend” up and down. Spinel, the three-year-old girl who was already bouncing in excitement, wore tight pigtails, pink shorts, and a white shirt with a juice stain on the collar. Piper gave her best friendly smile. She supposed she should be happy that she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone in the estate or stuck coloring in the corner of an office, but it didn’t stop the dread brewing in her stomach.

“Hello,” Piper greeted.

The toddler ran up and gave her a tight hug. Piper hugged back, trying hard not to think about how sticky the younger girl’s hands felt against the back of her shirt.

“I’m so excited to play with you!” Spinel said, eagerly.

“Well, I certainly won’t keep you two waiting,” Winona said, lifting her hands from Piper’s shoulders, “I’ll pick you up around dinner time, Starlight.”

Piper managed a grin at her mother. “Ok, mom.”

Piper followed Spinel and Mrs. Desjardins out of the office building. She buckled herself in next to Spinel’s car seat, and stared out the window as the younger girl sang along to the children’s music CD that automatically started playing when Mrs. Desjardins started the car. As her head rested against the warm glass, she wondered why her mother couldn’t have had any employees with kids her own age.

The drive to the Desjardins residence wasn’t long, and Piper had to admit the house was beautiful. The paneling was painted a lovely cream color, and beautiful vines of pink flowers surrounded the black shutters. The bushes underneath the windows also sported flowers, and looked to be freshly trimmed. It was clear that the family took pride in their home’s appearance.

“Come on!” Spinel said, happily grabbing onto Piper’s hand, “I’ll show you my playhouse!”

Piper could hear Spinel’s mother chuckle as the little girl led her to the backyard. Passed the ivy-draped wooden fence, the backyard was full of even more flowers than the front. In the center of the many flowerbeds sat a brightly painted wooden swing set with an attached playhouse. Still holding onto her new friend’s hand, Spinel brought Piper into the playhouse, the older girl having to crouch down to fit through the toddler-sized doorway.

“Ta-da!” Spinel said, finally releasing her sticky hand from Piper’s to raise her arms in presentation, “Welcome to my playhouse!”

Still unable to stand up straight, Piper managed a smile. There was barely even enough room for the two of them to be in there together. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Spinel tapped her finger on her chin, thinking through her options carefully. Her eyes widened with joy when the perfect game came to mind.

“Oh! Oh! Let’s play tag!” She tapped the older girl on the shoulder. “You’re it!”

Despite the cramped space, she managed to run out the door with ease, giggling in anticipation of the chase. Quietly wondering how long it was until dinner time, Piper put on her best game face and chased after Spinel.

The girls played in the yard until Mrs. Desjardins called them in for lunch. As she ate her tater tots, Piper hoped Spinel was tired enough to want to watch TV or play with dolls, but once their plates were cleared, she insisted on a game of hide and seek in the backyard. Putting on another smile, Piper agreed to Spinel’s games.

Mr. Desjardins came home from the office shortly after Mrs. Desjardins got started on dinner. He came with the message that Piper’s mother would be late picking her up, and that she was to have dinner with them. Piper wondered to herself why she expected anything different from her mother. The Desjardins were happy to set her a place at the dinner table, and she thanked them when they handed her a plate of spaghetti. While the grownups chatted, Piper quietly winced as Spinel made a mess of her spaghetti dinner, getting sauce all over her face and shirt. Twirling spaghetti around her fork, Piper wondered if her sisters were having takeout again.

By the time her mother came to collect her, it was almost nine o’clock. Winona gave the Desjardins an obligatory apology for being so late – something about backorders and a wrong color – but they assured her that it was fine, and Piper was a pleasure. As the adults took their time with their departure, Piper had her eyes locked on the door. Spinel, now dressed in her Micky Mouse pajamas, held tightly onto her hand, telling her that if she hid in her room, her mother wouldn’t be able to find her, and she wouldn’t have to go home. When Winona finally decided it was time to leave, Spinel threw herself onto the ground.

“I don’t want her to go!” she cried.

After a few minutes of Spinel crying for Piper to stay, the situation had to be resolved by Mr. Desjardins carrying Spinel up to her room. A final goodbye to Mrs. Desjardins, and Winona and Piper were finally in the car, driving back to the estate.

“Mrs. Desjardins told me about all the fun you had with Spinel today,” Winona said, her eyes on the road.

“Yeah…” Piper said, leaning tiredly against the car door, “She’s… nice.”

“Good, good,” Winona grinned, clearly not taking notice of her daughter’s apathetic tone, “I’ve arranged for you to play with her every weekday for the rest of the summer. Your sisters and I will take turns dropping you off and picking you up.”

Piper stopped listening, and sank back into her seat. She stared out the window, watching the streetlights zoom by. All she could think about was Spinel’s sticky hands.

\--

It had been five years since Spinel and Piper’s first playdate. Autumn leaves danced in the window as Piper sat on the edge of the child-sized bed, venting about her latest fight with her mom and sisters. Spinel laid on her stomach, her head resting in her hands, and her legs kicking back and forth. The eight-year-old listened attentively to her cool, older friend, occasionally giving a nod in sympathy. Being so much younger, she couldn’t always relate to her problems, but she was still always there to listen. That’s what friends were for, after all.

This week’s fight was once again about Piper’s role in the family’s business. Piper was on her usual rant about how Yvonne and Beatrix had their own branches when they were her age, and how it wasn’t fair that all she had was a few jewelry lines.

“They treat me like a kid,” Piper complained, “How would they even know how responsible I am? I could handle running a business just fine. They never have any faith in me.”

Spinel nodded. “You’d be the best boss ever! I bet when you finally get your branch, it’ll be the best branch they’ve ever seen!”

Piper gave a half-smile. At least _someone_ believed in her.

A light _ding_ came from the other side of the room. Spinel perked up.

“Oh, the brownies are ready!” She got up and hurried to her Easy Bake Oven. “Here Piper, you can have the first one. Brownies make everything better.”

“Thanks Spinel,” Piper said, still giving her a reserved smile, “I love brownies.”

\--

Spinel would never forget the look of excitement on Piper’s face when she gave her the news. At nineteen years old, she was finally getting her own branch of Damon’s Diamonds. Spinel couldn’t have been happier for her friend.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She _could’ve_ been happier if she could follow her to Maine, where her first warehouse and manufacturing plant would be located, but, as her parents reminded her, seventh grade came first.

She wrote to Piper every day. Piper wrote back once every few months. It was ok. Running a business was a lot of work, especially when you have a group of anti-corporate protesters thwarting the process. Spinel would wait as long as it would take. She knew her best friend wouldn’t forget her.

\--

The summer before tenth grade, Spinel woke up to find both her parents in the kitchen. She knew something was wrong before she even saw their pink, puffy eyes. Daddy was never home this late in the morning.

They broke the news to her as gently as possible. A fire had started in the on-site warehouse at Piper’s factory. It spread quickly to the main building, too quickly for Piper to escape her office. The fire took her life. 

Spinel shook her head. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Piper couldn’t be dead; she just couldn’t be!

She spent most of the day sitting on the couch, staring into space. News came in in bits and pieces. Dry foliage. Smoke bombs. Lacks fire regulations. Chemicals not stored properly. All came together to form a perfect storm of chaos.

At least a dozen people died in the blaze. Many more were injured. The number of casualties were still rising. Rose Quintin, the leader of the anti-corporate protesters, was thought to be responsible, but there wasn’t enough evidence for an arrest. Her current whereabouts were unknown.

It was hours before Spinel finally cried. Her best friend was gone, her life cut short in one of the worst ways possible. Piper was dead.

Piper was dead…

\--

Nearly Halloween that same year, daddy’s test results came back. Stage four lung cancer. Daddy didn’t make it to Christmas.

\--

A week after New Year’s, Spinel was called down to the principal’s office. A police officer was waiting for her. A car hit mommy as she was crossing the street. The car sped away. Mommy died in the ambulance.

\--

Eleventh grade didn’t last long. Spinel got expelled for repeated aggressive behavior. Once kicked out of school, she no longer had a reason to leave the house. The mortgage had been paid off long ago. Inheritance and life insurance payouts were enough for her to survive indefinitely. Groceries were delivered to the house every Tuesday. The farthest she ever ventured was to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

No one ever checked on her.

\--

She hadn’t remembered her twenty-seventh birthday until nearly a week had passed. Time always seemed to escape her like that.

Today was what she considered a good day; the only thing she felt was hallow. It was a step up from anger or sadness, and way better than the crash that followed mania. Hallow was safe. Hallow was good. 

Sitting on the old, rickety swing set, Spinel looked around the yard. The once beautiful landscape was now overrun weeds and overgrowth. Almost all the flowers were brown and shriveled. The ivy that mommy planted had completely taken over the fence and was creeping onto the graying exterior walls of the house.

Without even thinking, Spinel stood up and wandered back into the house. A fine layer of dust coated every surface, as if no one had lived there for years. Glancing at the overflowing sink of dirty dishes, she struggled to remember if she’d eaten today. She didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d have to force something down the next time she remembered.

Continuing through her untouched time capsule of a house, she let herself wander up the stairs. Her bedroom door had broken off during one of her fits a few years ago, now permanently propped up against the adjacent wall. The upstairs bathroom hadn’t been usable in five years. She found herself entering the master bedroom, formerly her parents’ room, and let herself fall onto the unmade bed. She wrapped herself in the old sheets and tried to fall asleep.

It was three in the afternoon.

\--

Forty-three. She was forty-three years old. Had it not been for the date and time in the corner of the morning news program, she wouldn’t know what day it was. She didn’t usually watch this channel, but it had been airing a marathon of old cartoons two days ago. For some reason, the old back and white cartoons made her feel a sort of calm. She couldn’t be bothered to change the channel after it ended.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the TV anymore, just lying on the couch and looking out the window. The neighborhood children were making their way to the bus stop, occasionally stopping in front of her house to talk and pint. If it weren’t for the glow of the TV through the otherwise dark window, they probably would’ve thought the place was abandoned.

Something on the TV made Spinel perk up. A morning talk show she missed the name of was starting, and the host was welcoming on that day’s guests. It was the Damon family.

Spinel sat up straight, her eyes glued to the TV. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw all three of the Damon women together. Winona, Yvonne, and Beatrix sat in chairs on the opposite side of the host. Someone else sat with the three of them, someone Spinel didn’t recognize. A boy, maybe sixteen years old. The title card that appeared under him read “Steven Universe, teen activist.”

Even with that introduction, Spinel still had no idea who this kid was, or why he was with the Damon’s. She listened intently as Winona Damon began weaving a tale about all the changes Steven helped them make to the company, and how she’s confident that other corporations will follow their lead. It honestly sounded lovely, even if she didn’t know who this Steven kid was. He was obviously very passionate about the reform of corporate America.

“My grandson here is the most compassionate person you’ll ever meet,” the elderly Winona said, smiling proudly, “All of Damon’s Diamonds are so happy to have him-”

Spinel stopped listening, her head suddenly spinning with questions. Her _grandson?_ Whose kid was he? Yvonne and Beatrix had always stated their intentions to remain child free, and Piper… Piper was…

That’s when it clicked. The curly hair, the dark eyes, the smile. It was hers. It was all hers. But, no, that was impossible! Piper died too young to have a sixteen-year-old son… Unless…

Spinel darted up from the couch and sprinted to the dining room, where decades worth of mail was piled onto the table. She rarely paid attention to what she brought in from the mailbox, just tossing it onto the table. Maybe she missed something. A letter, a postcard, any kind of message from Piper. She could still hear the TV as she meticulously went through every parcel.

“I don’t want to be put on a throne for doing the right thing,” Steven said in response to a question from the host, “The world doesn’t need billionaires. I couldn’t spend that much money in a lifetime.

“In fact, I’m not even going to be staying in New York for much longer. I’m heading back to Beach City tonight.”

All noise after that faded to static as Spinel continued through the mail. She spent hours, maybe even a full day going through everything. She found nothing, no secret message, nothing from Piper. Tears stung in Spinel’s eyes as she looked to all the mail scattered around her. Through the various newspapers and magazine headlines she came across in her search, she’d managed to piece together the story. Piper faked her death in the fire. Rose Quintin, the woman who supposedly killed her, never existed. Piper was Rose. Piper set fire to her own warehouse and factory, ran off with a few friends to Delaware, and started a new life under the name Rose Quintin. She died for real sixteen years ago, after giving birth to her son, Steven. Going off the dates printed, it looked like the story first broke two years ago, after Steven first found out the truth about his mother. Spinel fell to her knees, her fists clenching around whatever mail was in front of her. The one spark of hope she’d had in years was violently stomped out as the realization that Piper had no intention of letting her know she was alive consumed her.

Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper lived an extra twelve years, and didn’t think to tell her best friend. Piper didn’t die in the fire. _Piper didn’t die in the fire._

Her body shaking, heart pounding, and tears flowing, Spinel felt something snap inside her. The mail she had in her hands was shredded into confetti as she started to scream. Furniture was thrown as she screamed until her throat burned. Gears turned in her head, powered by the hot fires of rage. She wanted revenge, she _needed_ revenge, but Piper was dead, for real this time. It didn’t matter. Someone was going to pay. Someone was going to feel as much pain as she felt.

She couldn’t quite remember what happened between throwing a chair through the TV screen and getting on a plane to Delaware, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who finally figured out how to format things nicely on here!


End file.
